


Flying High

by Higgystar



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Rickyl, domestic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4775462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl is scared of flying. Thankfully there is a handsome stranger willing to help him out on his first flight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying High

Daryl doesn’t really think of himself as a nervous person. He’s been through a lot in his life, and through it all he’s struggled through and gotten past it with grit teeth and the faint hope that everything would turn out alright in the end. It’s worked so far and so that’s his way of coping with pretty much everything else in his life. But it’s not like he gets nervous or anxious over things really, or if he does then he just kind of sucks it up and gets through it.

Still, leaving Georgia for the first time was kind of a big deal.

So he supposes if he’s a little nervous when driving towards Atlanta, then it’s perfectly reasonable. And if he finds the huge building of the airport a little daunting then really that was within reason too. After all, he had spent most of his life milling about the smaller backwoods towns, places like this were damned near foreign to him. So really, if he grips his bag a little tighter, and stumbles over his words during check in and can’t help but check and check and recheck that his flight hadn’t been called without him knowing; it’s perfectly reasonable.

Plus the planes look a hell of a lot bigger than he thought they would, and louder too. Everyone else in the damned airport seems to know exactly what they’re doing, where they’re going and nobody else seems to be at all nervous about this whole thing. People are reading magazines, some are on their laptops and there are even children running about the damned airport lounge like there’s nothing to worry about.

So why can’t he stop his stomach from churning?

Maybe it’s because his bow had to be checked, checked and double checked by security before being locked away from him. Not allowed in hand luggage and having it in someone else’s hand’s even in it’s case, felt like a betrayal to him. Thing was probably already on the plane by now, just waiting for him to board and be reunited with it at the other end of the flight. Still made his palms itch though, worry for his most prized possession and definitely not a fear of being defenceless through the whole flight.

He’s so used to being in control, and he’s really not going to have any on the flight at all. But really how different can it be from a bus? Sure it’s in the air, held up by a couple of huge engines and stuff, but how different can it be?

But when buses break down they just pull over to the side of the road.

Weren’t no roads up there. Just big old empty sky and nobody else able to give them a tow if something did go wrong. Nothing but clouds. That shouldn’t make him shiver as much as it does. These big old airline companies surely knew what they were doing though, wouldn’t have multi millionaire owners if they kept losing their aircraft or crashing or something.

Daryl has to swallow when his throat feels dry all of a sudden. Why had he thought about that? There is no way the plane was going to crash. It barely ever happened, it’s why it was always such big news when it did happen. Fuck, why did his breath feel so damned shaky all of a sudden?

There is a callout for his flight to start boarding, everybody else gets to their feet and starts forming a line, leaving him looking out the window to the plane they’re about to get on with worry in his mind. They all look so damned calm about it all, so why can’t he stop his hands from shaking at the thought of walking down that walkway to get into that tin can with wings? It’s got to be safe. Just gotta be.

“First time flying huh?”

“That obvious?”

Turning to face the man who’d spoken to him, Daryl can’t quite offer a friendly smile, but the stranger can, looking calm even as their flight filled up behind them. “You look pretty nervous. I figured you could use a seasoned flier to tell you not to be.” The man tells him, his lips quirked into a small smile, ticket in hand along with a duffel bag. He’s not in a suit so it’s not for business purposes, must be a personal flight then.

It’s easier to focus on the smaller details, he’s always been observant and able to read people, so he focuses on that instead. It helps him calm down a little, makes it easier to breathe and his chest doesn’t feel so tight. Offering a shaky smile in return he nods his head, hoping the other man doesn’t think him a complete fool for being so obviously worried about flying. “Thanks.”

“Rick Grimes.”

“Daryl Dixon.”

They shake hands, Daryl hopes his palm isn’t too sweaty or at least that Rick doesn’t notice. Rick leads the way as they join the line of people giving in tickets and boarding the plane. A part of him is still nervous, wants to bolt and just give in to the fear, but then Rick is there in front of him, still smiling, looking so damned calm and turning to talk to him as they wait. It helps and Daryl finds himself latching onto the other man’s words instead of thinking about the flight.

“What’s the big occasion? First flight, gotta be something special.” Rick asks him and despite being a pretty private person, Daryl finds that he doesn’t actually mind sharing these details with Rick.

“My brother.” Daryl replies, licking over his lips and reaching up to run his fingers in his hair. Usually he’s so close mouthed, but there is a hint of pride when he tells Rick about his reason for flying today. “He’s clean, got himself a decent job, decent place to live. He…he always promised that we’d live together when we were older, and it’s taken a long time but he’s clean now. I’m goin’ out to live with him. For real.” Maybe the hopefulness is obvious in his voice, maybe it’s clear how many times he’s been disappointed before, but this time it is happening and this time it’s going to last.

“That’s a great reason for a first flight.” Rick tells him, smiling brightly and actually looking genuinely pleased for him. He’s not good with people, or conversations, or anything everybody else seemed to find came naturally to them. But right now, with Rick, maybe he’s still on edge about the flight, but he actually feels a bubble of excitement swell within himself. “Congratulations, to you and your brother.”

Daryl can’t help but duck his head with a shrug, he hadn’t really done anything, it was all Merle really, but he was still so fucking happy that it was finally happening. After years of being let down, he was actually doing it now. “Thanks.” He mutters, swallowing back the anxiety when the stewardess takes his ticket and begins processing him for the flight. It brings back the worry and instead of focussing on the flight, he instead turns to continue distracting himself with Rick. “What about you?” He asks, hoping that he’s not pressing too much when having this man as a distraction was helping him stay calm.

“My ex-wife lives with my son and daughter across the country. I do this trip about once a month to see them, wish I could do it more but money you know?” Rick tells him, not at all embarrassed about sharing his reasons. But Daryl also sees what he’s doing, helping to reassure him again by mentioning just how often he takes this flight. Once a month for what seems to be a few years, and Rick was still here. It had to be safe. “Told you I was a seasoned flier.”

It helps, really helps and even if he can feel his stomach churn as he’s told he can walk down the metal walkway and onto the plane, there is also the security of Rick’s words alongside it. Still he waits for Rick to finish talking to the air hostess, probably knows her personally by now anyway, and doesn’t start walking until Rick is beside him.

“So got any tips for me?” He asks, and he can hear that he’s breathing a little heavier, can feel his palms are cold with sweat, but he tries not to show it. Tries to walk at Rick’s side and not focus on the door to the plane at the end of the tunnel.

Rick gives him a grin, not a worry on his mind from the looks of it as they reach the plane. Instead of answering his question Rick instead turns to the hostess checking tickets and directing people to their seats, and Daryl’s heart clenches in his chest when the man speaks. “Excuse me Miss, there’s been a slight mix up. I thought my friend here was getting a later flight, but since he’s here I was wondering if you could do me the favour of seating me next to him? I’m more than happy to trade tickets with someone. They can have a free upgrade to first class, I’d rather sit in economy with my friend. He’s a new flyer you see, I’m sure you understand?”

Daryl knows he must look like a fucking idiot right now. Mouth hanging open, voice completely lost to him as this man he’s just met, this stranger, was basically giving up the luxury of first class just for him. He knows he should protest, should get himself together from the shock enough to stutter out a refusal, but before he can get that far Rick is placing a hand on his upper arm, giving him a squeeze and grinning his way. “He asked me not to make a fuss.” Rick mock whispers to the hostess, leaving her to giggle before she agrees to go and asks the person in the seat assigned besides Daryl’s.

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ve done this flight a thousand times, it’ll be nice to have some company. Besides, everyone in first class is usually far too up their own asses to even look at someone not in a suit.” Rick grins to him, just seeming so unphased by it all. Like this was nothing out of the usual. Like it was totally normal for a guy to just give up a first class seat for some random he’d met who was nervous of flying for the first time.

Thing is, even if Daryl knows he should protest more, he also kind of doesn’t want Rick to leave his side. So he scoffs, folds his arms with a shrug and acts as if he’s not grateful as hell. “’s your choice.” He mutters, but he knows Rick can see the flush on his cheeks.

The hostess returns not a moment later, and Daryl can see an over eager passenger moving his way up to first class. There is a wave of relief that washes over him as she begins agreeing to the change, leading them down the aisle of the plane and directing them to their seats. Thing is, despite him knowing this is a plane, really the seats just remind him of a regular coach, the same badly patterned fabric and back reclining angle that never gave anyone enough room. In a way it’s comforting to have the same shittiness he’s used to for travel.

He squeezes in to his seat, a window seat and he really didn’t realise just how high of the ground planes already were before they’d even taken off. Swallowing back that spark of fear, he leans back in his seat, ignores the view out of the window and waits for Rick to sit down after shoving their bags in the overhead storage.

“You really didn’t have to do this you know.” He tells Rick again, if only for something to say that doesn’t focus on the fact that the doors are being closed and locked, and people are beginning to get set for the journey. Licking over his lips, he can hear his breath starting to come out in pants, his fingers grip at the arm rests for something to stabilise himself, something to ground him when he can feel the whole plane begin to vibrate with the engines starting up.

Before he can even begin to lie that he’s fine and Rick had given up a perfectly good seat for nothing, the other man is beside him, leaning back in his seat and buckling the seatbelt around him. “I wanted to do it.” Rick states simply, as if it had been the natural thing to do. The hostesses are giving safety instructions, but Daryl can’t focus on them, not when Rick seems to be the only thing keeping his brain from replaying every plane crash from every action movie he’s seen.

Rick reaches across his lap, grabbing the seat belt and buckling it up properly, doing it for him like any responsible adult would for a child. It makes Daryl blush a little, but he doesn’t think he could loosen his grip from the arm rests long enough to do it himself. Rick is watching him, staying close enough to be in his field of view, but not so much to crowd him.

“Hey it’s okay.” Rick mutters to him, voice low and not interrupting the safety talk going on above their heads. “Nothing is going to happen. I promise.” And for some stupid reason, Rick’s voice sounds so sure, so certain, and Daryl believes him. It doesn’t stop his chest from feeling tight, or relax his grip at all, but it still helps. “You’ve been on rollercoasters worse than this.”

“Ain’t never been on a rollercoaster neither.” Daryl tries to joke, tries to pretend he’s not currently in a plane that’s about to take off from the ground. Why the hell had he agreed to get the plane anyway? So what if it would have taken him a long ass time to drive it, a few days and a lot of fuel and effort to make it. Dammit this shouldn’t feel so damned frightening. “If it’s worse than this then I don’t think I’m ever gonna.”

Rick laughs, accepts his attempt at humour and doesn’t point out that his hands are shaking in their death grip. Instead, Rick just places a hand over his, linking their fingers together but not loosening his tight hold on the arm rest, just joining it and giving him some silent support. In contrast to himself, Rick is leaning back, relaxed as anything and just watching him, sliding a thumb back and forth over his sweaty hand to reassure him. “The first one is the most scary. Afterwards it’s easy as pie.”

He huffs out a stuttered laugh through his nose, leaning a little more towards Rick and away from the window. Ignoring the view that’s beginning to move past him as the plane actually starts moving. It makes him gulp, closing his eyes and trying not to hyperventilate at the though of what’s going to happen next.

The thumb continues rubbing over his knuckles, he can feel Rick’s warmth as the other man leans into him, forehead pressing against his temple and giving him something stable to press against as the place gathers speed. “Just breathe Daryl. Keep swallowing, your ears might pop but it’s nothing bad, it’s just to do with the altitude.” Daryl has made a variety of noises throughout his life, but he’ll be damned if he ever admits to the squeak that leaves his lips at that.

Around them the vibrations change, from the feeling of moving over terrain to suddenly just the engines humming around them. The noise gets louder, even with his eyes closed he can feel the motion of being tilted back and he’s giving up his grip on the arm rest to grab at Rick’s hand instead. The other man doesn’t comment, doesn’t mock, doesn’t tease, he doesn’t even just let him either, he actually holds his hand back. His hand is warm, secure and safe, something to focus on when it felt like being stable on the ground was just a memory.

Daryl doesn’t know how he hasn’t thrown up yet. Maybe his stomach has a sense of pride that his shaking hands have already lost. Either way he’s grateful, because even if he is his white knight, he highly doubts that Rick would have stayed in the cheap seat beside him if he was stinking of vomit. There is only so much he should be forced to deal with after all.

His brain seems to be on red alert, because he is noticing everything. Even with his eyes shut he can feel Rick’s pulse through his hand, he can feel his breathing hitching in his chest, he can smell the perfume of the woman in the seat in front of him and hear the gentle chatter of conversation behind him. No one else seems scared, hell he can even hear some guy sighing about it taking so long. Well heck people got scared sometimes, and Merle had always said it was just survival instinct. People weren’t meant to fly, would have been born with wings if they were, so it’s perfectly reasonable to be afraid of being in a huge metal thing with only engines and physics that he didn’t understand keeping them in the air.

Might as well be fucking magic for all he knew, damn right he was allowed to be scared.

There is an uncomfortable feeling in his ears, like he’s been swimming and got water stuck in there or something. Clenching his jaw he tries to pop it, probably making the dumbest of faces. There is a chuckle to his side, the hand in his squeezes a little to get his attention and then Rick’s voice is there, sounding muffled to him. “Swallow a couple of times.”

He does as he’s told, finding it difficult to get enough saliva when his throat feels as dry as the desert. But he does manage to swallow a couple of times and there is an awkward feeling for a second until his ears finally pop. Everything else tunes back in around him, and when he gives a small sigh of relief, he realises that the plan isn’t climbing anymore. It’s levelling out, the plane is smoothing out and the seatbelt sign isn’t lit anymore.

Beside him Rick is facing him, and when he looks his way the other man is smiling at him, not mentioning the death grip he has on his fingers and looking so calm despite Daryl’s receding panic. “Congratulations.” Rick smiles to him, not mocking or teasing, but just sounding the right level of humorous and impressed at the situation. “You just survived your first take off.”

Daryl laughs at that, all his breath that he’d been holding coming out in one loud puff. Rick reaches out to unbuckle his seatbelt for him, and Daryl really doesn’t mind this man being in his personal space as much as he normally does with other people. “Just about.” He replies, and he can’t help but grin back to the man. “Got my coach to thank for it.”

“My pleasure.” But Rick isn’t pulling away from him, isn’t moving for his own space at all. Just looks down to their still entwined hands and how it’s not so much a desperate clutch now, as just the two of them with their fingers entwined. “So how is your first flight going so far?”

He doesn’t pull back, doesn’t let go of Rick’s hand as he gives a slight shrug before answering. “It’s not so bad, think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

But there is something about Rick, something comforting, something strong inside of him that is luring Daryl in willingly. He’s glad he’s faced at least one of his fears today, and maybe, if he gets to see Rick again after the flight, maybe he’ll get to face another one. Rick licks over his lips, glances down the aisle of the plane, shifts a little in his seat before ducking a little closer. Automatically Daryl does the same, the two of them close, breathing the same air and he cannot believe how much of himself he’s let show to this man who was a complete stranger to him not an hour ago.

But maybe its some twisted form of fate, and all he knows is he wants to explore it further with Rick. So he leans in, licks over his lips and listens when Rick, the stranger he’d trusted with his fears, the guy whose hand he was still holding, talks to him with a voice barely above a whisper.

“So how much do you know about the mile high club?”


End file.
